Work Text:
"Gorramit it, Mal, quit grinnin' at me."
"This is what's known as a 'poker face'."
"Some poker face. They're supposed to be all stoical, an' I can tell you got a straight or somethin', shit-eating grin like that! I fold."
Across from Jayne, Mal placed his hand down, and Jayne saw a cherry, a peach, a pear and a banana. A cheer went up from each of the two whores flanking him, and Mal, grin still in place, swept the pile of chips toward him with both hands.
"Aw, hell," scowled Jayne. He'd meant to get out of the game four hands ago, like Wash did, but he'd had a crazy mind to win back the rest of his cut. Now it was gone, right back in Mal's hands, save one five-plat chip. "I had a pair of plums and you didn't have shit!"
"That's why they call it a poker face," said Mal. He smiled a smug-ass smile.
"Malcolm Reynolds, you got the damn funniest idea of a poker face I ever seen, 'cept on politicians four sheets to the wind," said Nandi, the whore sitting on Mal's left.
"I'll take that as the compliment I'm sure it was," said Mal, smirking at her all importantly; he fixed his smirk on Jayne next. "Well, weren't that barrels of fun!" He was stacking up his chips -- Jayne's chips; the flashing blue and red lights embedded in them only served to remind Jayne how much money he'd lost all in one night. "Just barrels! Easy, too!" Glaring, Jayne grabbed his shot glass and downed the last bit of diluted whiskey. "Up for another round?"
At this, the whore seated on Mal's right put her hands on her hips and looked at him real indignant-like.
"Cap!" she protested. "You already got all of Jayne's money! Whatcha want him to ante-up with, his pants?"
"Say, now, that's an idea," said Jayne, leering at her as he set down his glass. She just rolled her done-up eyes at him. "I only got a fiver left an' I need it to pay for my tab," he grunted in Mal's direction.
"See? All's he got is the shirt on his back, or the pants on his ass, or whatever."
"'Scuse me, boys, I do believe I see a customer," murmured Nandi, her trained manner barely making a break in the conversation as she stood and left the table, heading toward a rich-looking feller in a dark suit who had just entered the house. Jayne took the opportunity to watch her backside a bit out of the corner of his eye.
"Can't say as I have a need for muddy pants that won't fit me, little Kaylee," said Mal good-naturedly. His stack of chips was a high, wobbling tower. "Now, what I really got use for is the things in Jayne's pants--"
That got Jayne's attention.
"Cap!" repeated Kaylee, tickled.
"... I was talking about his guns," Mal finally said, blinking at them.
"Oh," said Kaylee. She tried to hide a grin behind her lacy-gloved hand as she glanced back at Jayne's hard expression; Mal looked at him defiantly.
"Guns," he repeated.
"Good!" said Jayne, frowning. It seemed like his manhood was always getting brought up in this place. "I mean -- they ain't up for talkin' about, neither."
Mal opened his mouth, but at that moment, Nandi appeared at the table again, the man in the dark suit directly behind her. Her red lips were twisting in amusement.
"Well, now," she said casually, looking at Jayne with an unsettling glint in her eyes. Jayne sat back in his chair, wondering if he'd be called on to escort someone out proper. He kinda hoped so. Nandi was real generous when people helped her and hers out. It wouldn't be the first time Jayne had forced some liquored-up dandy, in a mood and looking for one of the girls, out the door. He eyed the silent man behind her. "I got a customer here, says he's looking for something real special."
Kaylee stood, batting her eyelashes with interest. Jayne had spent enough Friday nights at the whorehouse to know that Kaylee got real lubed up over rich folk; showed the difference between her and the real professional whores like Nandi and Inara.
"Really? I'm sure we can find him just what he's in the market for."
Nandi favored Kaylee with an affectionate look, but her eyes flicked back to Jayne as she spoke.
"This gentleman's in the market for menfolk," she said.
There was a sudden cough, and Jayne could've sworn Mal had just choked on a laugh mid-swig of whiskey.
"Oh!" Kaylee said, her enthusiasm slightly abated. She smiled graciously at the man in the suit anyway. His face was unmoving, and his eyes were hidden by dark red lenses. Now that was a poker face if Jayne had ever seen one. "Well, you're in luck. We got some real fun boys."
Nandi cleared her throat elegantly.
"Well, I was given some specifics, an' some of them's related to - measurement, and when I heard the figures, I said, 'With proportions like that, there's only one name comes to mind--'"
Kaylee gasped.
All eyes immediately followed Nandi's and pinned themselves to Jayne. Mal's maddening poker face rushed back, and Kaylee's hand was in front of her mouth again, barely covering her delighted grin. Even the dandy was peering at him behind those fancy-ass glasses. Jayne felt a surge of uncomfortableness.
"What?" he asked, sitting up again.
Then the man in the suit said, "I'll take him."
And there was a silence about ten years long.
"Wait, what?" repeated Jayne.
But Kaylee had already taken the rich guy's arm and was leading him toward the staircase, saying, "I'll just show you your room an' Jayne'll be right up, just as soon as him and Nandi settle on a price."
Jayne twisted in his seat, hissing at Nandi. "What do you think you're doin', woman? I ain't some two-bit manwhore! Hell, I don't know what Shyanne's been tellin' you, but I ain't even sly."
A strained voice came from the staircase. "I'm willing to go up to five hundred platinum..."
Jayne's eyebrows perked all on their ownsome. Five hundred plat?
"Jayne Cobb," said Nandi firmly, leaning forward and resting her hands on the table, "you listen to me. ...You listening?"
He could buy ammo for his long-range rifle, not to mention a replacement for the autopistol he'd had to leave behind on Beaumonde. Hell, he could buy two and still have more money left over than he'd just lost to Mal.
"When did Jayne take the sacred whore oath?" Mal was asking, chuckling as if the whole thing was hilarious. "I know he practically already lives here, but I thought it was him payin', not the other way around..."
He could even send upwards of fifty plat to his mother, and that would get that gorram water pump bill solicitor off her property for good.
"Hey, you!" said Nandi loudly, grabbing Jayne by the collar of his t-shirt and wrenching him up out of his thoughts. She cut Jayne off before he'd even thought of a protestation to make. "Listen to me. On a good night, my girls make fifty to seventy, total. The boys, they don't make near that, but they're still the best in the system and well-known, purely on word of mouth from the rich men who leave here satisfied. I ain't known for disappointing rich men and I ain't known for turning clients away."
Nandi was staring down at him, but Jayne didn't dare look anywhere but right back - Nandi had that way about her.
"Now, that young man is willing to pay a downright silly amount. Here's why. One, he wants his privacy. Two, he wants to watch - nothin' more, nothin' less. He ain't looking for complications. Three, he wants a man with measurements we ain't got, but if what my girls all say is true, you do." Nandi paused and let Jayne's collar go. "You do this for me, Jayne Cobb - I'll let you keep all of what you earn, and drop your tab on top of that."
Gorram. Five hundred platinum and his rutting bar tab paid off.
Of all the things Jayne was thinking, the first one popped out was, "He wants to watch what?"
"That's for him and you to discuss," said Nandi, leaning back and smiling in satisfaction.
Jayne looked at Mal with his mouth hanging open a little; Mal had his arms crossed and looked a mix of amused and interested.
"You'd think a rich kid like that could get his just fondling his wallet," Mal commented. "If I had five hundred plat solid to blow, I surely wouldn't waste it all on a whore."
"Don't you dare keep insulting my career, Mal," said Nandi coolly.
"Well, I ain't sayin' you ain't worth it..."
"No touchin'?" asked Jayne, rolling his shot glass self-consciously in his fingers and avoiding eye contact of any sort - mostly.
Nandi smiled at him. "Nope. He was clear, he just wants to watch. Easy money."
"That doctor's so nice!" enthused Kaylee, who was tucking her money bag into the bosom of her dress as she approached the table again. "Gave me ten plat just 'cause I took him to his room! Think that's 'cause he's never been in a whorehouse before and don't know he don't have to tip."
Easy money.
"And he's real anxious to see if the rumors are true, Jayne," Kaylee continued, her mood seeming boosted. "He didn't say as much, but he asked me if I was sure about you, an' I told him all the girls swear up an' down you're the biggest that's ever come in."
At this point, Jayne had risen from his seat, feeling pretty important. She elbowed him, grinning.
"Well, see you when I'm rich!" he announced.
"He's waitin' in room four. Have fun!" said Kaylee.
"Yeah, have fun whoring," Mal said, batting his eyelashes sweetly in some kind of imitation of Kaylee.
Jayne gave a sneering grin and flipped his five-plat chip at Mal in response. It was nothing but chump change now.
"I can't wait to hear what that doctor has to say..." Kaylee said as Jayne tromped away from the table.
It felt like all eyes were on him as he went up the stairs of the house, but he knew that weren't so; Jayne was a regular and it wasn't unusual for him to make his way up that staircase drunk, sober, fast, or slow, and with or without his hands wandering into the dress of one of Nandi and Inara's girls. Hell, he saw Shyanne more than he saw his own self in the mirror. Still, as he approached the fourth door along the dimly-lit hall upstairs, Jayne had to take a pause.
Rich, big-city doctor or no, he didn't generally get off with men, save the times he'd had no privacy and couldn't help getting his rocks off in the same vicinity as other men. Sometimes he and Shyanne were spied on by Nandi's boy whores, and even though he knew they was peering in at the door, Jayne didn't much mind. It was kinda powerful, knowing he was the subject of some awe around Inara and Nandi's house. He didn't know that he wanted to go so far as to touch any of the boys, even the real girly ones that put on lipstick and acted all delicate, but he weren't averse to showing off now and then and never said nothing if he caught a pair of sly eyes watching his cock pumping in and out of one of Nandi's girls. If watching was all this doctor wanted to do, then Jayne could earn that five hundred platinum real easy.
Room four was dark save a bitty little lamp by the bed, and for a second, Jayne thought the room was empty and that the doctor had come to his senses about parting with an absurd amount of coin and had split when Kaylee left him. Then, as he stepped in, he saw that the man had seated himself at the little round table in the corner. He was hunched over anxiously, but rose a little as Jayne stepped in and shut the door behind him.
"You the doc?" Jayne asked, mostly as he didn't know what else to say.
There was a pause, then the man lowered himself back into his seat and clenched at his knees with a pair of lily-white hands.
"Yes," he said faintly, with an air of reluctance. "I didn't - mean for my title to slip out like that, but I - was a little distracted..."
"Well, whatever, I ain't got a mouth for gossip," grunted Jayne.
Now that he'd heard the doctor speak again, he could tell two things - he was young, and he was from the Core. By the flickering, poor yellow lamplight, he gave the doctor a casual once-over, from the tip of his shining, neatly-parted black hair to the tips of his shining, neatly-tied black shoes. He was wearing a long winter jacket over his suit, but the collar of his shirt was bright white and starched stiffly. He was still wearing the blood-red sunglasses. Jayne suspected he weren't armed, neither.
"And you're... Mr. Cobb, is it?" asked the doctor slowly.
"Yep," said Jayne. No one called him 'mister' except for the dentist he went to every now and again; it was a might unsettling. He reached for the snap of his gun belt, and this seemed to silence the doctor again.
Jayne was carefully studied as he removed it and put it on the dresser. He'd grown used to the odd sight of his guns resting on the fancy black lace doilies and marble-topped dressers Nandi kept in all the rooms, but the sight seemed to catch the doc off-guard. Jayne unsnapped the holster from his thigh next. As he put it down, the doc murmured something at him.
"What's that?" Jayne asked over the clicking of a cartridge from his gun.
"You're not a whore, are you."
Occupying his hands with ammo, Jayne fished for an answer that wouldn't jeopardize his new job.
"You sayin' I'm not pretty?"
The doctor merely gazed at him, downright inscrutable behind them glasses.
"You carry a lot of weapons, for a whore."
Staring right back, Jayne put his knife on the dresser with his guns.
"What's the matter? Don't think we womenfolk can handle big ol' weapons?"
Quickly, the doctor changed tack, clearly uncomfortable with the reminder that Jayne wasn't exactly the bustled-up doxy most came in for.
"I just want to watch," he said firmly.
"Fine with me," Jayne said. "You wanna watch what, exactly?"
"...You?"
"You'll have to get more specific," said Jayne, whipping off his sweaty t-shirt with a powerful movement.
"Ah," muttered the doctor. He seemed at a loss, opening his mouth and then closing it again and looking at what was probably Jayne's biceps before managing, "I - how do I say it...? I want to watch you... pleasure yourself."
Gorram; all them pretentious words rich folks used and this kid could barely even say nothin'.
"Well, you just watch, then," said Jayne, riding on a wave of patience born of the five hundred square platinum sitting in the doctor's account, just waiting for him to get himself off so it could go to someone who would use it decently.
Without asking for any further instructions, he unsnapped the button of his pants and leaned back against the dresser, guns inches away should he need them. He watched the doctor's posture straighten with interest as he dug his fingers into the fly of his pants, undoing button after button and exposing the taut curve of his bare belly and the coarse hair that crept up it. He never came to Inara and Nandi's with unmentionables on anymore; it was just a waste of good groping time, to have to get them off, and he'd lost pairs somehow, too.
The doc was still gripping at his knees, and his fingers seemed to tighten as Jayne stroked down the crude stitching of his fly and down the inside of one thigh to rub at his cock through his pants. It stirred immediately and a powerful thrill crept into Jayne's belly at the way the doc's breathing went all jumpy.
It didn't take much coaxing for his cock to get stiff under all the attention, and it felt real good to rub it all slow and long, knowing it was what was wanted of him. Soon enough, Jayne's cock had pushed itself to the limit inside his pants and he shoved his hand into them, knuckles burning against the fabric as he pulled himself out, balls and all. When his prick popped out and the doc's mouth actually slipped open, lifting one pale hand to clutch at the table as though the ground had shifted beneath him, Jayne went fully hard in response.
For a minute, Jayne just let him look, leaning back on the dresser and propping his cock up with three fingers at the base. He was pretty well accustomed to a look of trepidation here and there from some women and those big-eyed looks from the spying whore boys - but the doc's fixed expression weren't one of those sorts. His eyes were hidden, but the raised line of his dark brows and the slight part of his lips were more than telling. Hell, even the way his chest was hitching silently for breath made it obvious. For the doc, this was worth every dollar - and Jayne was going to see to it that he earned each one.
"Rumors true, then, doc?" he asked with a grin, brow furrowing as he brought his fist up the entire long length of his cock. Jayne's hands weren't small, neither.
The doc's chin lifted a little.
"Yes, it seems so," he said a moment later, voice still soft in his white throat, and real forced. His mouth closed again.
Jayne pumped himself slowly, his foreskin slipping up and down over the blunt pink head of his cock as he did so - and gorramit if his breath didn't go all catchy. His eyes closed for a moment, but he forced them open again, finding the doc leaning back in his chair a little. His posture was still tense, but the settling in made Jayne settle, too, and he let his eyelids lower a little as he concentrated on not hurrying too much, on drawing it out... on running his palm in a lazy circle over the wet tip of his prick... on reaching down to squeeze his fingers around the heat of his balls. Usually, Jayne wasn't much for going slow or making himself wait in any manner, but he concentrated real hard and time seemed to go meaningless around him pulling his prick up slightly to the right - even though it wanted to lean the other way - and letting it go to swing out in front of him when he thought he was starting to go too fast.
Finally, he found himself sweating slightly in the heat of the room and practically dripping from the slit of his cock and couldn't help but give himself a few proper, noisy, quick tugs; he gnashed his teeth at the pleasure and gave a few more, and the doctor's sharp breath may well have been a good loud moan for all it made Jayne's muscles ache so sweet. He was closer to shooting his load than he'd known - he had to slow down before he lost it and the doc decided he wasn't worth the money...
He squeezed himself harshly, biting back a groan.
"Mr. Cobb..." started the doctor, with painstaking effort.
"Just Jayne, gorramit," Jayne growled, clutching himself harder and harder as the feeling in his belly threatened to spill over. "Don't go ruining the moment with that proper crap."
"Jayne, then," the doc said shakily. "Use both hands."
Jayne did.
Seconds later, he was shouting out hoarsely, trying to keep his eyes open as he lost his load all up his chest and glanced back and forth between his spattered skin and the doc's pinched face. His balls were tight and jerking beneath his fingers and his seed was rolling in fast, hot, slippery tumbles down his belly and into his pants.
For a languorous, heavy minute, Jayne just blinked unfocused eyes and breathed out grunting breaths in the darkness of the room, body aching and heaving with the whole thing. The doctor just sat there in his chair, no longer holding the table but digging his fingers into the thick material of his jacket and looking flushed.
When he was able, Jayne reached for his t-shirt and mopped at his sticky, slippery stomach. He'd need a shower tonight and wondered if Nandi would oblige him the use of her bathroom. Heck, he thought, he'd leave a tip by the fancy soap just like the rich men did.
"You'll be wanting your money."
The doctor's voice was strained, flustered - it took a moment for Jayne to remember that the doc hadn't gotten his yet and he wondered for an uncomfortable tick if he was supposed to be doing something about that. He tucked himself back into his pants awkwardly. Gorramit, shouldn't the doc have been - pleasuring himself or whatever while watching Jayne? There wasn't supposed to be touching...
"Hold on," said the doctor, looking down and unfastening a few of the buttons on his jacket so he could reach in for what Jayne sure hoped was his five hundred plat.
Sure enough, a moment later, the doc pulled out a silky-looking pouch from a breast pocket in his jacket and held it out wordlessly in Jayne's direction. His back was looking awful hunched again.
Jayne fumbled, hand gooey with his own come, over the buttons on his fly, then strolled casually over to the man and took the pouch.
"Five hundred platinum," said the doctor breathlessly.
Feeling somewhat shocked that he was holding so much money in his hand for so little and so painless an effort, Jayne managed a strange-feeling grin at the doc and shoved the pouch into his pocket. Up close, Jayne could see the shadows of the doc's eyes behind the red lenses and, since he was standing, see a hint of dark eyelashes as well. He could see the white edges of the doc's teeth as he bit his lower lip. Most of all, he could see how young the doctor was - barely out of his teens, Jayne thought. Probably a brand-new doctor in some fancy-ass hospital on the Core who didn't know what to spend his stacks of money on other than trips to border planet whorehouses. Either that or Jayne had just given the doc something he'd desperately wanted to see, and travelled far out of his way for.
"It's all there. If not, see the house mistress and she'll let me know." The doctor paused, and Jayne saw that his eyes were lingering over a trace of wetness shining along Jayne's rough, tan skin. "If you'll excuse me," he finished faintly.
"Oh," said Jayne. "Yeah. Just gotta get my guns." He tossed his wet t-shirt over his shoulder. Once he'd gathered up his belt, holster, and knife, he turned, the pouch of platinum bulky in his pants, and said abruptly, "'Bye."
He didn't wait for the doc to say some awkward thanks with all that fake Core stiffness. He slipped out the door and shut it tight behind him, leaving the doc free to jerk himself stupid with big cock jealousy. Halfway down the hall, he stopped and stuck his hand in his pocket, just to make absolutely sure the plat was really there.
"Ruttin' son of a bitch," muttered Jayne in disbelief. "That was the best job ever."
*
The following Friday night found Jayne slumping into his usual seat across from Mal, wearing his fancy new striped shirt and the satisfied expression of one who had just had a pretty damn good week.
"Well, if it isn't the belle of the ball," smirked Mal.
"Yep," said Jayne importantly. He knew he looked damn good. Vertical stripes did that to a man. "That's me. Howdy there, Inara. Long time no see."
Inara wore an amused smile not entirely unlike Mal's, although far prettier.
"Jayne," she said warmly; Jayne knew it wasn't so much that she was delighted to see him as it was she'd greet even a three-headed cow with some special kind of Companion-y vibe. "That's a lovely shirt you have on. I heard you're working here now. Is that true?"
"Aw, hell no," Jayne said with a grin. He pounded the table in amusement and tossed back of a gulp of his whiskey. Then he added, voice scratchy from the burn in his throat, "I did do me some free-lance frisking for some high-society doctor, though. Let him see what all the fuss is about."
"Charmingly put," Mal commented.
Jayne pursed his lips agreeably.
"Well, you'll have to thank Nandi for the opportunity, won't you?" Inara said, sipping elegantly at her drink. "I believe twenty percent is the standard in this establishment."
"Now, don't you go all businesswoman on me, Inara," Jayne protested. "Me and Nandi had an agreement."
"Yes," nodded Mal. "I witnessed it with my own eyes. Jayne's taking all the size queens from now on."
"Oh, well then," said Inara, setting her glass down. "In that case, I know who I'll be allowing exclusive entrance to my bedchambers, starting today."
"Really?" leered Jayne.
"Yes, of course," said Inara. "Only not ever."
Mal chuckled, but Jayne just shrugged and leered some more.
"So shall I wave the doctor back and tell him you're not - oh, how did Nandi put it...?"
"Literate?" suggested Mal.
"Well," she laughed.
"Hygienically commendable?"
"Hey, now!" Jayne sat up straight and straightened his new shirt. "I changed clothes today, remember? My lovely shirt?"
"I think it was more like - 'contractually available to be a two-bit manwhore?'" She laughed again, clearly real amused.
Jayne leaned in on his elbow and fixed Inara with his best interrogation stare, all suspicious and mean.
"What do you mean, wave back?"
"Well," Inara said in a leisurely fashion, sipping at her drink. "Just before you came in, Nandi received a wave inquiring as to whether you were available for an engagement tonight, and offering quite a respectable amount of money for your time. She told him she'd wave back as soon as you got in, but she's upstairs with a client, so the responsibility falls to me. So I assume it's also up to me to inform him you're not under contract with this house."
Jayne furrowed his brow.
"You sayin' the doc is comin' in again an' he wants another look?"
"Jayne givin' peep shows," Mal hiccoughed. "That's just all manner of funny."
To her credit, in Jayne's opinion, Inara just ignored Mal and smiled at Jayne almost as if she understood it weren't nothing to laugh at. "Actually, I believe he was looking to meet you in what he termed, 'a more discreet location.' He seemed a little nervous about coming in again - I believe he's worried repeated visits wouldn't allow him to go unnoticed. It's a typical worry of a number of our clientele."
Jayne scowled thoughtfully. "Why don't he wanna come in? Ain't that why the house exists?"
"One of the reasons," said Inara. "But you must admit, while we have a strict privacy policy, a whorehouse is not exactly discreet."
"What's discreet, anyhow?" asked Jayne dismissively. "There ain't nowhere else to go 'cept some piss-soaked back alley, and that ain't exactly private."
Inara set her drink down and put her hand on Jayne's arm - a first, for sure. Jayne leaned back a little, interrogation glare leaning out of mean and all the way into suspicious.
"Why don't you use my shuttle," she said brightly, and at that moment, whiskey somehow exploded from Mal's head with a loud busting noise. Attention shifting to Mal's dripping chin and shirt, Jayne and Inara both leaned back a little more.
When he'd caught his breath and wiped his chin with the back of one hand, Mal gasped indignantly, "My shuttle!"
"It's my shuttle while I rent it, Captain," Inara said with a flicker of impatience in her voice. She reached for Mal's napkin and dabbed at his whiskey-beaded shirt with it.
"But," wheezed Mal, eyes darting back and forth between Jayne and Inara, uncomprehending.
"If you have some sort of problem with your shuttle being used for a Companion's duties, you might have said something a little sooner," said Inara, with a touch of ice in her voice. "It didn't seem to me that it bothered you too awfully much last night."
"I dunno if I'm the only one remembers this or not, but Jayne's no Companion!"
"No, but I am. And you've engaged me for tonight, so I don't see why Jayne can't use my shuttle while it's empty."
"Jayne has his own room for - duties!"
"I hardly think the doctor is going to be put at ease by the guns and naked girls on Jayne's wall!"
Jayne could hardly keep up.
"I don't give a good gorram about the doc! That shuttle ain't up for any business but your own!"
"This is business, Captain. By arranging the appointment and allowing Jayne the use of my residence, I receive the standard twenty percent, half of which I then put to the good of the house - in this case, Serenity."
There was a heavy silence.
Then Mal said, "Oh."
Inara smiled and turned to Jayne, whose eyes were a little glazed.
"Well, Jayne? Shall I confirm an engagement with the doctor in my shuttle for tonight? Believe me, it's well-equipped for the occasion, and I think the doctor will feel much more at ease there."
She raised her brows and waited patiently for an answer while Mal scratched his cheek and looked like he was trying to figure out just how that Crazy Ivan had gone.
Finally, Jayne cocked his head, then leaned forward with a leer.
"Now, wait. Does this mean I'm gettin' entrance to your bedchambers after all?"